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Weekly Contest #52
The thing about death is that it takes a very long time. There’s planning to be done. There’s the wake and the funeral and the food and the gifts. There’s phone calls and texts to be answered. First there are sleepless nights. Then you have the days spent staring at the ceiling. Then afternoons clearing out the house. All of this turning into weeks in your planner that you never bothered to fill out. You knew there was someone in charge of watching you. There was always someone to usher you to the church or the house or the grief counselor. ...
Weekly Contest #51
The toaster popped. Jessica, dressed in her bathrobe, hair in a messy bun, bunny slippers adorning her feet, reached for it, but Alex was faster. “Can you not do that?” “You snooze, you lose! Good morning, dearheart.” “Alex, what are you going to do with that? You can’t eat.” “Touché.” Alex was already dressed because Alex was always dressed. The same jeans and sweater she had borrowed from Jessica. She would never get that sweater back. Her nails were chipped and her converse were tearing a bit where the rubber met fabric. Jessica had ...
There was a distinct smell of wetness. The place hadn’t been boarded up tightly enough in the winters lately. The panelling on the walls was warped and discolored around the edges. The green shag carpet felt too stiff under her feet. When was the last time he’d had guests? Samantha had stopped coming probably fifteen years ago. She’d stopped receiving the invitation after ten of those. She had paced around the little house before landing here. Stepping through the tiny kitchen, still dark wood and yellows and greens and linoleum. Pyrex fro...
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